


Trust Issues

by Lainpinky131



Series: The Key is Not Knowing [2]
Category: Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Canon Who Is She I Do Not Know Her, Companion Piece, Episode: s02e02 The Pact, Introspection, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Language, Mild Unhealthy Codependency, Not Canon Compliant, One Long Conversation, hand holding, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-07 18:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14676903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lainpinky131/pseuds/Lainpinky131
Summary: After the misunderstanding outside the Stacked Deck, Bruce needs to get something out in the open. He can only hope that John will forgive him. Though, knowing him, he probably will.





	Trust Issues

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is a companion piece in my AU-verse where John pre-Arkham was Jack Napier/Red Hood and only Harley knows. I would recommend that you check out my previous fic in the series so that this fic will make a lot more sense. [Missing Pieces](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456302)
> 
> I drew a picture inspired by my fic, which you can find [here](https://vagabond-art.tumblr.com/post/183378400767/bruce-felt-his-heart-ache-no-john-cant-say).
> 
> With that said,  
> Enjoy! <3

 

_Dr. Harleen Quinzel, or Harley Quinn as she preferred to be called, was someone Bruce Wayne couldn’t stand the second she stepped into the car._

_He knew what game she was playing. He could see through it the instant she pointed her gun at him, and when he grabbed it out of her hand, her laughter confirmed what he already knew. The icing on top was how she treated John, how she sneered at him every time he looked away, and just how oblivious—no, oblivious wasn’t the right word. John was many things, but oblivious was not one of them—just how willfully in denial he was._

_When she sent John away under the pretense of wanting a slushy, Bruce was half tempted to follow John out of the car._

_Now alone with her, she was able to ask what she really wanted._

_“What’s a guy like Bruce Wayne want with a lost soul like John?”_

_She smirked at him, but the truth was behind her eyes. She glared inquisitively; he knew she was looking for one specific answer. She needed a weakness she could exploit, but he wouldn’t give her one._

_Harley knew that John cared for him, but Bruce would at least try to keep the people who knew their relationship was mutual to a minimum._

_So, Bruce lied and said the first thing that came to mind._

_“He’s pretty useful, what can I say?”_

_Harley was a puppet-master, a manipulator. If he wanted to gain her favor without losing control of the situation, he’d have to put himself on her level._

_But when John came back to the car, slushy in hand and curious about they had talked about, she had to open her mouth._

_“Your friend here was just saying how he’s using you, Pud’.”_

_Bruce had glanced at her, his face impassive, and she only grinned at him. She called his bluff._

_It was obvious that she was trying to rile him up, but when he saw the shock and hurt on John’s face, he scrambled for another lie. He had mumbled out a poor excuse: that he was only kidding and hadn’t meant anything by it, but it didn’t matter. John was smart enough to see through his failed cover-up._

_“I get it, Bruce. You ‘used’ me. ‘Cause that’s the kind of guy you are.”_

 

* * *

 

Bruce stood outside of John’s Ha-Hacienda. He knew that as soon as he was alone with the man he would explain himself, talk everything through. Now, here it was. Bruce had no idea what he was going to say, but he’d figure something out.

Bruce ran a gloved hand through his hair and rapt his knuckles on the door before he entered. Knocking may have been a little odd for him to do but looking around, a little odd was more than welcomed. From the purple curtains on glass-less windows, to the fairy lights, to the framed photographs of the two of them together in the shape of a smile, everything was undeniably, unmistakably John. Who was Bruce to argue with that.

John perked up at the sight of him.

“Bruce! Hey! So good to see you!” John chirped, and despite Bruce’s prior nervousness, he felt himself smile.

“Hey, John,” Bruce said, “Do you have a minute?”

John scoffed, as if the answer was obvious, “Always have time for you, buddy,” he said.

Bruce crossed the room to sit down on John’s makeshift bed, which looked to be just a sleeping bag on a crate. John scooted closer in his wheelchair until the two of them were directly across from each other.

John leaned forward with his elbow on the armrest as he held his chin with his hand, a smile on his face that perhaps shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was.

“What’s on your mind? You look like you want to talk about something really serious, it’s making me anxious. Did Harley shake you up that bad?” He asked, his expression suddenly changing into that of concern.

Bruce huffed a short and dry laugh. Did Harley shake him up? Sure, he could say that. Harley was someone who, at first, he neither liked nor trusted, but after their enlightening conversation, Bruce was beginning to see both Harley and John in a different light. Bruce hated to admit that he was beginning to see not only the charm in her off-color personality, but also what had drawn John to her in the first place.

_All you’re there for is to be a mind for him to pry apart and spit in._

Bruce remembered her words, the pain in her eyes, and he thought about telling John what Harley knew. He could tell him that a piece of his past was so close he could almost touch it, but… No, not yet. Right now, there was something more important.

Bruce took a breath. He could do this.

“No, nothing like that,” he answered, “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday, about what I said in the car. I want to explain—"

It took John a few moments to remember what Bruce was talking about, but the second the realization appeared on his face he reached his hands out to interrupt Bruce.

“Oh, don’t worry, Bruce. You don’t have to say _anything_.”

Bruce gently took John’s hands and moved them out of the way.

“No- John, I _do_ ,” he said.

John leaned back in his chair. He wore an expression that said he really didn’t want to be having this conversation. Bruce couldn’t blame him; he was likely making the same face as well.

Bruce began slowly.

“What Harley said, I _did_ tell her I was using you, but it’s not the truth. I’m being honest when I tell you that was just the first lie I could think of. You’re my friend, and I don’t want you to think I would ever want to take advantage of that,” he finished.

John blinked at him.

“That’s such a _weird_ thing to lie about,” John said. His expression softened, and a clear look of confusion took its place. “I don’t- I don’t really get why you would even do something like that, Bruce.”

John watched him carefully, like he was hunting for any hint of a lie.

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but the words never came. He had been forced to choose fast, and he’d chosen wrong, simple as that. But John deserved a better explanation.

“I’m not…” he trailed off, and sighed. “I don’t really know what I was thinking. I didn’t know if I could trust Harley, and I didn’t want her to use our friendship against us,” he said.

His answer only seemed to make John even more confused.

“Why would she- No, she wouldn’t do that! Maybe she’s just trying to push your buttons ‘cuz she’s jealous of you? Because she likes me! That’s _got_ to be it, Bruce!” John clapped his hands together as if he’d decided.

“John, I don’t think its that,” Bruce said before he could stop himself.

John’s smile dropped.

“Then what else could it be?” John asked, before he paused. “Wait, maybe it’s all in your head and you’re just imagining it, buddy. Maybe it’s not Harley who’s jealous. Maybe it’s _you_ who’s jealous.”

Bruce faltered and choked on his own breath.

“You are! You’re jealous! You’re totally jealous of Harley!” John cried out before he caught himself. He covered his mouth with his hand before he became too loud, though it did nothing to stop his giggling.

Bruce looked down at his hands in his lap. The idea that he was jealous hadn’t occurred to him before, but he wasn’t going to deny that it sounded right. The possessive protectiveness he felt for John, it wasn’t just when Harley insulted him, but also whenever she would reciprocate his affections. Jealousy _would_ explain a few things.

“I guess I am jealous,” he admitted, “I know you like Harley, but I just don’t want her to come between us,” he said. Bruce didn’t know why he told John that, but it was the truth and he wasn’t going to take it back.

“Aw, don’t be so paranoid, buddy. Nothing can come between _this_ friendship,” he said, and gestured between the two of them. Suddenly, his smile disappeared as he narrowed his eyes at Bruce. “But, uh- just so you know. Being jealous isn’t _that_ far off from being controlling.” His voice went alarmingly low. John had been just like this when he had confronted Bruce about the tracking device he’d placed on him.

“But!” John continued, “I’m glad to know that you care so much about me! Sometimes it’s hard to tell with you…” he trailed off at the end, his voice dropping so quiet that Bruce almost didn’t hear the last part.

“Of course I care about you, John. Believe it or not, you _are_ my best friend,” he said.

“Oh, I figured that out from your big, ol’ crush on me,” John said, and Bruce could only awkwardly laugh with him. “But hearing you say those word, well, the feeling’s mutual, buddy,” he said, his smile wide and his eyes bright.

Bruce smiled at him, “For what it’s worth, I _am_ sorry,” he said, “I know what it’s like to find out someone you care about was only using you, and I don’t want you to think that I would hurt you like that.”

“Aw, Bruce. You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings. I don’t let any of that stuff get to me anyway. Learned how to block it out in Arkham. Heck, I wouldn’t be too upset if you _did_ use me,” John said, his voice low and painfully sincere.

Bruce felt his heart ache. No, John can’t say things like that. He needed to understand how important he was.

So, Bruce reached out and squeezed John’s hand.

“Friends should never do that to each other. You know that.”

John looked down at their hands and after a long moment, he squeezed back. A silent gesture. He kept his eyes low, on the floor or at his shoes, but Bruce couldn’t take his gaze away from John’s face.

Bruce could never tell what was going on in John’s head, but god, he wished he could. He _needed_ to understand, to know John better than he knew himself. Needed John to know him.

Eventually, John broke the silence.

“Okay,” was all he said as he pulled his hand away. Just that one word, but it was enough.

John smiled up at Bruce. It wasn’t his large, toothy grin that Bruce was so familiar with. This smile was softer, somehow more personal, and it was that smile that made Bruce realize something.

It was painfully obvious how John ignored Harley’s behavior, but she wasn’t the only person he excused. Bruce and Harley were the two most important people in John’s life and thinking back on it, he didn’t act very different around either of them. John had been so trusting, so easy to forgive, and so quick to get attached.

_Are you in love with me?_

Bruce had asked him that very question the day before, and John had answered with a short but considerate rejection. Bruce knew that John would never have lied to him outright, and he didn’t want to assume, especially about something like this, but the suspicion crept in regardless.

John and Harley weren’t a good fit. She’d made it very clear only a few moments ago just how little she thought of him and exactly what she planned to do once his usefulness had run out. Bruce was going to do everything in his power to protect him from her, but between the lies, the secrets, and that _goddamn_ tracking device, how could he call himself any better?

The weight of the situation crashed down on his shoulders; his fatigue had finally caught up with him. His head dropped forward and he held his face in his hands. Hunched and heavy, he felt exhausted.

“I’m not a very good friend.”

John clapped a hand gently on his back.

“Oh, don’t say that, Brucie! You’re a great friend! Best I’ve ever had!” John exclaimed.

Bruce chuckled, “I’ll try harder to set a better example,” he said, though it came out with perhaps more of his ‘Wayne charm’ than he intended. “You deserve that.”

The hand on his back pulled away only enough that it barely hovered over his leather jacket.

“What I deserve, huh,” John mumbled, though it was likely meant for himself.

Bruce didn’t know much about John’s life, but he could safely assume that it had been rough. John must have gone through things Bruce couldn’t even imagine. It had left its scars, and he was beyond troubled, but he was also someone who pined for something as delicate as a friendship. And for whatever reason, he’d chosen Bruce. Such a strange man who only craved affection. The same strange man who had saved his life the first time they met and had done so again not even an hour ago.

“You deserve…”

John stared back at him, straight faced and wide-eyed as he waited for Bruce to continue. Bruce searched for the words to articulate his feelings to John, but none came to mind.

He sighed. Why was this so hard?

“You deserve—"

Before Bruce could finish, John punched him in the shoulder playfully, but with still enough force to shove him back.

“Stop thinking about it so much, buddy! Everything’s forgiven,” he said, “So, next time just remember, honesty is the first step to building trust.”

Bruce nodded. Honesty. He could do that. How hard could it be?

“So—uhm, what _did_ you guys talk about up there?” John asked and gestured with a nod of his head up to Harley’s office.

Bruce shrugged.

“The usual. Shovel-talk at gun point—or baseball bat point,” he said. This wasn’t completely honest of him to say, but it was enough of the truth to matter.

John laughed, “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

Suddenly, John grabbed Bruce’s wrist and tugged him toward the door.

“C’mon! I’ll give you a tour of the place, show you the works!”— he raised a hand to his mouth and whispered the rest— “And I’ll give you some advice on how to get in good with the other guys.”

Bruce smiled.

“Sure, John. Whatever you say,” he said.

Whether or not what Harley said was true—the past was the past. It was unimportant and deserved to be left in the past. Whoever John had been before they met in Arkham, it didn’t matter to Bruce one bit. John was his friend, his best friend. John filled a void that Bruce didn’t even know he had. There was always a darker side to John: now, in Arkham, _before_ Arkham. But Bruce was here for him. John wouldn’t be alone anymore. Neither of them would be.

For better or for worse, they were two threads in the same stitch, and he’d do whatever it’d take to keep it that way.

**Author's Note:**

> oh, bruce. you never change. your choices are gonna bite you on the bum
> 
> If this fic felt abrupt, don't worry. I will explore upon these themes in future installments in this series. I have two more fics currently in the works, so keep an eye out for those. :D
> 
> Bruce is a trans, ace, bi, ethnically hard to pin down, jewish bean who is lactose-intolerant and had a previous fling with Selina which ended badly. John has borderline personality disorder.
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr @vagabond1925


End file.
